


Never Backed Down

by vorpalblades



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Beach Sex, First Time, M/M, Minor Dean/OFC, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Strip Tease, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorpalblades/pseuds/vorpalblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean, a fire on the beach at night, a twelve-pack of cheap beer, and, for old times' sake, a game of Truth or Dare. </p>
<p>Written for deirdre_c's <a href="http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/493230.html">Hot Fun in the Summertime</a> Comment Fic Meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Backed Down

Sam has always loved the ocean. With as many times as his family criss-crossed the country, they never stayed long enough at the coast for Sam’s liking. There was something absolutely astonishing about standing on the beach, looking out at the water, and seeing nothing else. One of the best things about Stanford, actually, was its proximity to the beach – the constant weekends at Half Moon Bay, being able to bury his feet in the sand whenever he wanted. And to be honest, the tang of salt in the air reminded him of home, made him feel safe.

It wasn’t the same for Dean. He could take it or leave it, he always said. Sand got in uncomfortable places, the salt water was hell on his baby’s finish, and riptide, man, riptide was fucking scary. But when they _did_ make it seaside, sometimes Sam would catch his brother staring out with the same look of wonder, and he thought, “Yeah. Yeah, Dean gets it.”

Like now. There’s a nearly full moon hanging high above them and a slight breeze coming off the water, so they’re sticking close to the remnants of a bonfire they told some college kids they’d take care of. The beach is empty and so damn quiet that Sam can’t hear anything beyond the crash of the waves, the crackle of their fire and the occasional hiss-pop as one of them opens another beer. They’re sitting barefoot on an old blanket dug out of the trunk because Dean refuses to drive the Impala onto sand, and Sam’s dividing his attention between staring out at the dark ocean and sneaking glimpses at the contemplative look on Dean’s face.

It’s like a sudden boom of a shotgun when Dean finally breaks the silence, and Sam can’t help but startle at his brother’s, “Hey, Sam?” When Sam fully turns to acknowledge him, Dean’s pausing to take another pull from his bottle, a sly smile on his lips. Sam watches the bob of his Adam’s apple, barely stopping himself from swallowing in sync. When Dean’s done, he rests his bottle in the sand, faces Sam and says, “Truth or dare?”

Sam can’t help letting out a sharp laugh. “Seriously? Last time I checked, Dean, neither of us was in high school anymore.”

“Old times’ sake. Come on, make your choice.”

It’s not a choice. Sam learned a long time ago that there was only one safe option when playing this game with Dean. He still has the scars to remind him. “Ok, truth.”

Dean gives him a familiar knowing look, the one that blatantly means _you wuss_ , but plows on anyway. “What’s the craziest sex you’ve ever had? And keep in mind that if you say something lame like reverse cowgirl with the lights on, I’m disowning you.”

Sam’s glad for the red glow of the fire, because it’s disguising the slight blush that always threatens to appear whenever he talks sex with Dean. He’s old enough now that he can’t blame it on embarrassment anymore. “Jess had a thing for being in public. She snuck me into a changing room with her once.”

“Did you forget to lock the door behind you or something?”

“No door. Just one of those curtains you pull aside.”

With a low, appreciative whistle, Dean gives Sam the once-over, and Sam tries not to fidget. “Damn, Sammy. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Thanks, I guess. Your turn – truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Sam hesitates slightly. “Same question.”

“All those brains and you can’t come up with something original?” Dean takes another sip of his beer, staring back out at the water. “2002, waitress in Minnesota. She wanted her brother to watch. He kept giving me suggestions, things to try that he,” Dean curls his fingers into air quotes, “’knew she’d like.’”

Sam suddenly, desperately needs something to do with his hands. He settles for grabbing his own bottle and draining it in large gulps. By the time he tosses it aside and reaches for a new one, Dean’s looking at him again, something knowing in his eyes. 

“Truth or dare, Sam?”

“This is stupid, Dean.”

“Truth. Or. Dare?”

“Truth,” Sam sighs, aware that he probably isn’t going to like his brother’s next question.

“How long have you been looking at me like that?”

Sam gulps. “Like what?”

“Like the way you stare at the ocean, like it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen.”

Fuck. He had this handled, damn it. For the first year back on the road with Dean, he’d been convinced he’d beaten the stupid teenage hero worship he’d had for his big brother. Convinced himself, really. But after everything – Dean’s deal, the Apocalypse, the fucking _trials that nearly killed him_ – he had to admit to himself that it had never gone away, and it was never actually just hero worship. But at least it wasn’t obvious.

At least, he’d thought so.

Sam jumps to his feet, scattering sand all over his side of the blanket. “I changed my mind.”

“Sam –”

“Just… give me the damn dare, Dean.”

Dean plants his bottle in the sand again and brushes his hands off on his knees. “Alright. I dare you to go skinny dipping.”

It’s so simple that it stops Sam in his tracks. “That’s it? Out of everything you could ask, that’s what you want me to do?”

“Yeah, that’s what I _want_ you to do.” Sam doesn’t miss the emphasis. He looks Dean in the eye, and Dean stares right back. Slowly, Sam reaches for his belt, and Dean’s gaze drops to Sam’s waist. Fuck.

Sam’s starting to get hard under the scrutiny, so he closes his eyes, hoping beyond hope that he can make his dick calm down. But with each action – unlooping his belt, removing his shirt, popping the button on his jeans – he can hear Dean shifting in the sand, and by the time he drops his jeans, he knows it’s a lost cause. He can only imagine the picture he makes, standing in front of Dean with his eyes closed and boxer briefs tented. He takes a deep, fortifying breath, hooks his fingers under his waistband and shoves the material down his legs. He doesn’t pause at Dean’s gasp, only opening his eyes as he turns and heads straight for the water. 

Once he’s out far enough for the water to hit him mid-chest, Sam ducks under the waves. He stays down for as long as he can hold his breath, letting the cool water wash over his flushed skin and enjoying the privacy the ocean’s providing. He manages about thirty seconds before he surfaces, and only then does he register the splashing nearby.

When he turns around, Dean’s about five feet away and still moving. Sam struggles against the waves that are pushing him closer to his brother, but it’s futile. In a blink, there’s barely two feet between them. Sam swears he can feel Dean’s body heat through the water, and he knows for a fact that Dean’s just as naked as he is.

“I realized it would be a little hard to finish if I was still on the beach,” Dean says, moving gently with the push and pull of the waves. “Come on, Sam. My turn. I choose dare.”

“Dean, I’m not playing anymore.”

The next wave catches Sam off-balance, and before he can stop himself, he’s pushed right into Dean. His cock slides along Dean’s thigh, and that’s it. Sam gasps, shaken, and then Dean’s hand disappears under the water. There are fingers wrapping around Sam’s length, and then he feels Dean press his own cock into the grip, just as hard and hot as Sam’s.

“I’m not playing either, Sam. Dare me. What do you want me to do?”

When Sam looks, Dean’s eyes are just as dark as the moonlit sea. “I want you to kiss me.”

Dean’s never backed down from a dare.


End file.
